Grace Happens When We Let It
At the root of war is fear; not so much the fear that men [sic] have of one another as the fear they have of everything. It is not that they do not trust one another; they do not even trust themselves.
― Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation
It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me.
― Taylor Swift, Anti-Hero
In light of my history as an “activist,” I was surprised to discover that what I want to write about for this edition of the Mendicant on action and social change is the gift of contemplation.
As many CAC followers have heard me share, I first encountered Fr. Richard’s teaching during a difficult period in my late twenties. I was working with policymakers in Washington, DC to help stop the atrocities and violence happening in Central Africa. I struggled to find a spiritual path that could withstand the anger I felt at such injustice and suffering. I made our work my stand-in for faith.
I also observed in myself a common tendency in Washington: young people arrive with lofty ideals and ambitions but get absorbed by careerist logic that comes to view political access and influence as ends in themselves. Gradually, and with no malice, culturally reinforced compromises with our own integrity overtake idealism, and we end up becoming the very thing we meant to change.
It wasn’t any lofty mystical encounter that helped me discover CAC’s teaching and the contemplative path. It was the grace of consistent, gnawing dissatisfaction with that status quo.
I can still feel some of that joyful relief I experienced during early encounters with contemplative wisdom and practice, learning that I was not unique or even (gasp!) uniquely bad. How incredible it was to discover that simple presence to reality, as it is, can help us to relate to ourselves and the world we inhabit with patience and humor. How daring it was to sense that grace happens when we let it, even amidst incomprehensible suffering and loss.
In the essay quoted above, Thomas Merton boldly names this healing process as the root of all true social change. He writes, “Thus we never see the one truth that would help us begin to solve our ethical and political problems: that we are all more or less wrong, that we are all at fault, all limited and obstructed by our mixed motives, our self-deception, our greed, our self-righteousness and our tendency to aggressivity and hypocrisy.” [1]
Merton isn’t saying that winning policy change and addressing systemic injustice don’t matter. (He wrote this essay while advocating vociferously for the abolition of nuclear weapons.) He’s saying that in contemplation, we are equipped to see and release the convenient fictions we tell about ourselves. By placing us correctly in solidarity with everyone, everywhere, we are freed from playing the cynic, and hope becomes possible.
I can’t explain this paradox, but it’s the only path I’ve found that feels honest, and thus hopeful. So, count me as part of the social change school of Taylor Swift.
Reference:
[1] Thomas Merton, Thoughts in Solitude (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 2011), 3.
As the Center for Action and Contemplation’s (CAC) executive director since 2014, Michael sees CAC as uniquely positioned to support inner work for those seeking to build a more just and humane world. Michael lives this mission beyond CAC in supporting movements for peace and collective liberation, as a vowed member of the Community of the Incarnation, and as a dad to his daughter Madeleine.
The Center for Action and Contemplation’s mission is to introduce Christian contemplative wisdom and practices that support transformation and inspire loving action. In this issue of the Mendicant, we are honored to share with you articles from five members of CAC’s community about what loving action looks like in their lives. Download a PDF of this issue.